


out of his strong hands

by Laylah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bloodplay, Comeplay, Community: kink_bingo, Dom/sub, Gangbang Fantasy, M/M, Marking, Red Romance, sopor!Gamzee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamzee sits there all to grinning, because he gets this by now, he does: Equius says <i>Do you want me to</i> when he means <i>I fucking want to so bad I can't fucking stand it</i>, like getting all close to what he wants would make it snap like one of his motherfucking robots. Seems like, if you pity a brother with a hangup like that, about the only motherfucking thing to do is take the decisions right the fuck out of his strong hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	out of his strong hands

They have a fucking bitchtits party when they get together in the Veil. Karkat calls it a motherfucking strategy meeting and Terezi calls it a fruity rainbow rumpus and Gamzee knows a party when he chills his way through one. They hang out together and they talk about shit and Gamzee would be happy to jiggle his stash of elixir out of his sylladex to share, but that miracle ain't happening tonight, so it must not be time for that just yet. Some other kind of miracle got to happen first, is all.

Like when the party's broken up and it turns out Gamzee's gonna be sharing a respiteblock with Equius, and Equius says "I apologize for the lowbloods," all stiff and formal like he is.

"Ain't nothing to be motherfucking sorry for," Gamzee says, smiling to show him it's no big fucking deal. "They're all chill motherfuckers."

Equius puffs up all cranky. "They do not show proper respect," he says. "They are entirely too familiar."

"Man, you ain't even seen motherfucking familiar yet," Gamzee says. He sprawls on the pile in the middle of the room, horns and towels and little bits of punched-up robots. "Come on all down here."

"Of course, highblood," Equius says. The more wound up he gets, the more he's all hung up on following rules and shit, like it's the only motherfucking thing that keeps him from going off the motherfucking deep end. He gets his fancy posterior down on the pile and lies down real motherfucking careful, and a couple of the horns in the pile ain't gonna honk ever again but it's cool. It's all cool.

"You need to get your chill on with everybody," Gamzee says. It's all nice and dark in here, so he reaches over takes off those beat-up shades Equius wears all over so he can look a brother in the eye.

"Is that an order?" Equius says, all hopeful about it.

"The motherfucking harshest," Gamzee tells him, because nothing makes that motherfucker chill like having somebody be straight-up strict with him, "so you better be all listening to what I motherfucking tell you."

Equius melts like a motherfucking strong pat of butter, and that blue blush on his face means he's motherfucking happy as he knows how to be. "Yes, highblood," he says.

Gamzee nods. He's got his motherfucking prophecy on, is what it feels like, and he's going to lay down some righteous wicked miracles here for his strong brother. When the spirit moves you, you don't motherfucking stop to ask where it's going. You just up and _go_.

"All right, my brother, listen right up," Gamzee says. He leans over and puts his hand over Equius's eyes, and that makes Equius liquefy a little more into a sweet happy state of _yes please_. "Shut those peepers and get your listen on, because it is motherfucking story time."

"I'm listening," Equius says, all hushed and waiting.

"That's right," Gamzee says. "I been all thinking, I want all my motherfucking brothers and sisters getting along, and that means you gotta be all cool with everybody, you know?" He rocks forward so Equius is in his shadow, this gorgeous fucking miracle called _putting a motherfucker in his place where he wants to be_. "So I think I gotta be more strict with you."

Equius swallows hard. "You would require me to submit to the lowbloods?"

"Is that what you motherfucking want?" Gamzee asks.

Equius shivers. "The idea is exceedingly inappropriate," he says. "Such lewdness i-is inexcusable."

"But that's not the answer to the motherfucking question," Gamzee says.

"Forgive me," Equius says, even though it's not like Gamzee is all bent out of shape about it. "If it would please you, then I would enjoy that very much."

Maybe he's not gonna remember this tomorrow or even later tonight, but right now Gamzee can see the miracle of what Equius needs perfectly clear, going both ways like the words of the motherfucking mirthful messiahs, how he wants to lord over people and wants them to push him around at the same time, this beautiful twisted up mess that Gamzee seriously wants to _do_ something for.

"There we motherfucking go," he says, quiet so he doesn't scare this idea off. "Gear up that think pan, my brother, and picture your bad self on your motherfucking knees in front of everybody."

"Yes," Equius breathes. "B-blindfolded? Like this?"

Better keep his hand right the fuck there, Gamzee decides. "Hell yes," he says. "Can't see who's got what color blood, you'll just have to be a polite motherfucker to everybody."

"A-as you say, highblood," Equius says. He squirms.

"Motherfucking right," Gamzee says happily. He runs the fingers of his other hand over Equius's lips. There's a split spot that would probably come right open if he pushed a little, deep blue sticky all over his fingers like the motherfucking ocean at night. Fucking miracles. "No more motherfucking harsh noises out of here, either," he says. "You open your piehole, it better not be for no fucking scolding."

"Then you—you would order me to service them?"

Gamzee sits there all to grinning, because he gets this by now, he does: Equius says _Do you want me to_ when he means _I fucking want to so bad I can't fucking stand it_ , like getting all close to what he wants would make it snap like one of his motherfucking robots. Seems like, if you pity a brother with a hangup like that, about the only motherfucking thing to do is take the decisions right the fuck out of his strong hands.

"Fucking right I would," Gamzee says, smooth and calm as motherfucking low tide. There's a perfect motherfucking miracle of an idea washing up on the shore of his mind right now, so he does the sensible thing and listens. "Ain't nobody here gonna need a motherfucking pail while we got you."

Equius makes this fucking miracle noise that's half sob and half music, the steel-salt tang of him soaking right through his motherfucking shirt. "Please," he says, just sweet noise. His snaggly chompers catch that sore mouth spot and it opens up, leaking blue down his chin like motherfucking paint.

Just like motherfucking paint. Gamzee touches it, smears it to lighter blue where it goes thin. "I got you, brother," he says. "Got you right where you fucking belong." He tugs up the hem of Equius's shirt to get some more bare skin he can be all drawing on, motherfucking chiseled ab canvas. "Gonna paint you all up. Put a nice clear sign here so any motherfucker taking a peep at you knows what you're all about."

"I'm in your hands," Equius says, like a song, like a motherfucking prayer.

"Fuck yeah, you are," Gamzee says. That little trickle from Equius's busted lip ain't gonna give him much to paint with, though, is it? He reaches into his sylladex to see what happens, what kind of miracle the modus got for him right now, and comes up with a pretty little pigsticker he ain't ever seen before. Sharp as a fucking dream, though. "Now you hold right the fuck still," he says.

Feels like that must be a tough one, the way Equius goes all to shivering when the point of that little knife touches him. His breath is all fluttery and he keeps making sweet music noises, so Gamzee is all up and sure this is the way to go. He draws real slow and careful, hand as steady as it'll go, and blood comes up to the surface like little blue pearls on a string. A nice big fucking pail, right there across Equius's flat belly, and then because he don't want nobody getting the wrong fucking idea Gamzee adds a plump round pity heart right in the middle. It's blue instead of red but he thinks it would do the job just fucking fine.

"There, now that is all up on looking fucking righteous," Gamzee says.

Equius feels all trembling tight under his hands, whispering, "Please, highblood, please."

Gamzee shakes his head. "You know my name, motherfucker, you should be all using it."

"Gamzee," Equius says. "Gamzee."

"Yeah," Gamzee says, "there you fucking go, now you sound as fucking gorgeous as you look, my brother." He licks the edge of his little knife, because it feels like the right goddamn thing to do, and the blood on his tongue is motherfucking beautiful. He watches how Equius's banged-up hands keep flexing and opening, reaching for something he can't touch. "Now what are you all saying please for? You want a fucking favor, you gotta go on and be specific."

"Those—those depraved things you were saying before," Equius says, his cheeks near as fucking blue as the bucket Gamzee drew on him. "Would you...continue?"

Gamzee's gotta laugh, but he pets Equius's hair so he'll know it ain't mean. "You're all about those depraved motherfucking things, huh?" he says. "But somebody else gotta put you there. Don't you worry, bro, I'm all on that." Even though he's moved his hand by now, Equius ain't opened his eyes, and probably he won't, either. Too happy to do what the fuck he's told. "Put you down on your knees where everyone can see you, where everyone can see how you been volunteered for pail duty."

Equius whines in his throat like that motherfucking broke him, and his hips come up looking for any motherfucking thing to rub on. "Please," he says. "They would—you would encourage them to—"

Poor motherfucker can't make himself say the words. "Encourage them, fuck, how about I show them how it's done?" Gamzee says. "How about I get right the fuck up front and blow a load all over you?" He lets all that sweet noise Equius is making wash over him, feeling all the way fucking right with the world. "They'd get the motherfucking idea after that, straight up."

"All of them," Equius says, all desperate and wound tight.

"Like a fucking parade," Gamzee agrees. "One after another until you're a sloppy motherfucking rainbow mess, dripping every color we got on this pile of rock. And you still saying please and thank you like the polite motherfucker you are."

"Yes," Equius says, teeth bared kind of like a smile and kind of like he's hurting, "Gamzee, please—"

"I motherfucking got you, don't you worry," Gamzee says, and he lays one hand over Equius's bulge and squeezes, slow and hard, and Equius goes off like motherfucking fireworks, soaking right the fuck through his clothes.

And he _is_ a polite motherfucker, gasping, "Thank you, Gamzee, thank you," even while he shivers and shakes with all that letting go.

"No fucking worries, my brother," Gamzee says, because that look of calm chill all up on Equius's face right now is motherfucking beautiful. "You and me, we made some fucking miracles tonight."

"A-as you say," Equius says, all sort of shy now. Gamzee just flops in the pile next to him and grins, letting the moment be. He doesn't go anywhere until Equius sits up and says, "I—I should excuse myself to the bath."

Gamzee nods. "You gotta be all doing what makes you comfortable, bro," he says. Equius gets up, being all careful with his crazy motherfucking strength, and a couple more of the horns in the pile give up the ghost. Gamzee keeps smiling to make sure he knows they're cool, everything's cool. When Equius goes squelching out the door, Gamzee rolls over in the pile and pulls up his sylladex. With any luck, he can finish out the night with a fresh pie.


End file.
